


Summer Ennui

by LaDonnaErrante



Series: Seasonal Humors in the Vinkus [3]
Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDonnaErrante/pseuds/LaDonnaErrante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To be sure, Sarima would be in her winter doldrums (as distinct from her spring moods, her summer ennui, and her congenital autumn condition)." Wicked 200-201</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Ennui

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/gifts).



The tall grasses of the Vinkus stood perfectly still in the heat of the day. The Princess of the Arjikis sat in her tent, sweating and miserable. As a child, she'd spent summer on the grasslands, running about after Three and Four, trying to keep them out of trouble, but now, she only wanted a respite from the heat of the day and a moment to herself before the Nor needed feeding or Fiyero returned from hunting.

It was on days like this that she remembered the bumping and rocking of the wagon, as the caravan made its way from Thursk to the grasslands. Two and Three would argue about the price of salt and how many months of food their load would buy. Four and Five played, clapping and singing, and Six would sit calmly in her lap and babble. Together they watched the dry, red earth of the desert stretch out behind them, slowly softening and giving way to tall grasses and prairie birds.The Great Kells would rise up on their left casting long shadows, prompting Four to demand a story.

"Pleeeaase One, tell us about Kumbricia!"

Sarima would oblige, recounting the tale of the Witch and the Fox Babies, or how Kumbricia was imprisoned in a castle deep beneath Kellswater. Her sisters would listen quietly, enthralled as she pitched her voice high and low. The story itself was a kind of spell, a way to calm her sisters' sniping and speed the journey.

It was on one of these journeys that everything changed. Her sisters had fallen asleep in the afternoon heat, Two's head resting on one shoulder and Five snuggled under her other arm, when she heard a scream, and the wagon turned sharply. The caravan had come to a sudden halt. She heard a terrifying roar as a blade tore through the canvas covering the wagon, and Six began to bawl. Sarima pulled Six to her shushing desperately as confusion tore through the caravan. The wagon tipped sending them ass over teakettle onto the hard ground. Arjiki tribesmen pulled them roughly out of the cart. Sarima could not remember much more than that: being bound and unbound, walking and riding, eating and sleeping were blurred together. The sun had beat down on their backs and the hot earth blistered her feet. Six felt heavy in her arms; she could hear the baby try to cry. Instead there was only a weak croaking sound, Six's voice hoarse for lack of water. Her next recollection was of standing, shaken, before the Arjiki Chieftain and his son, a boy no more than seven years old.

"Which of you is One?"

Two shot her a warning look, but she stepped forward anyways. His eyes passed over her, assessing and she felt herself shrink. "You will do. Fiyero, I present to you, your wife."

The child smiled shyly. "What is your name?"

"Sarima."

The wailing of a child disturbed her reverie. "Sarima!" Three called, and opened the tent flap for Ilianora, who toddled in. She gathered the girl up in her arms, shushing and soothing her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Image Source: https://glaciercountyhoney.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/mt-2010-189.jpg


End file.
